


The Worst Year of Agent Curt Mega's Life

by Jafars_apologist



Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Jewish Curt, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21811372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jafars_apologist/pseuds/Jafars_apologist
Summary: Curt and Owen meet again. It's only fair Curt is the one left for dead on the concrete floor this time.
Relationships: Agent Curt Mega & Tatiana Slozhno, Barb Lavernor & Agent Curt Mega, Cynthia Houston & Agent Curt Mega, Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega
Comments: 9
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is the first time I'm publishing, super excited! English is not my first language so I'm sorry for any accidents - I'm looking for beta readers if you are willing :)  
> This is a short prologue, you can expect longer chapters afterwards.

In retrospect, Curt could pinpoint that moment as the beginning of the worst year of his life.  
Of course, while it was happening, he could only say it was the worst second, the worst couple of hours, the worst day.  
The worst year of Curt Mega's life began with him sprawled on a concrete floor of some hangar in Texas. He drove there, and he knew Barb knew where it was, but for the life of him could not point to it on a map. Cynthia did try to make him, of course.  
His head was fuzzy. He knew his time was very limited, yet couldn't really make himself move.  
Owen. He tossed him there. He was getting away, but if Curt could only talk to him for another minute he was sure to change his ways, wasn't he?  
The thought made him jump to his feet and groan with the pain of at least two broken ribs and probably a broken left leg. He couldn't afford to dwell on the pain, and even though he had to lean on the dirty, muddy walls to do it, he managed to drag himself out of there.  
Owen.  
Said ex-boyfriend wasn't anywhere to be found by the time Curt steadied himself on a tree's trunk. A few moments passed and Curt was pretty sure he fainted for the most of them. he woke up to hear an explosion and see the hangar go up in flames. This marked the worst three minutes of Curt Mega's life.  
This was not the first time Curt had to handle a broken bone or several. The only reason those minutes were that awful was him.  
Owen.  
If he was asked, Curt would blame himself. He was the one who followed Owen to the hangar. He was the one who said he preferred to die than to live without Owen once more. And he was the one who left Owen to die in the first place. Owen only did what anyone would do - repaid Curt for his actions four years ago.  
The next few hours were a blur. Curt vougly remembered finding himself near a highway, then in a car with a Swedish tourist who looked more excited than worried, then in a hospital bed. When he got back to his senses, he found a public phone, too dazed to worry about his hospital robes with the generous butt slit.  
The person on the other side just only managed to pick up the phone before Curt spoke.  
"Mom, could you come pick me up?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Road trip with mama and Barb!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who read this!  
> Once again I remind you: I have bad English and good intentions, and can really use your corrections!

Curt Mega was not awake for most of the first day of the worst year of his life, which was a blessing. While he slept, the doctors patched a hole in his lung and made a cast for his broken leg. There wasn't much to do about the broken ribs besides staying still.  
His next memory was her arms crushing him, surprisingly strong considering her minimal size, and causing him incomprehensible amounts of pain.  
"I was so worried, Curtis! Didn't tell me where you were going, thank god for this friend of yours, that Barb, she's waiting in the car… what do you mean I can't hug him like that, that's my son lady, do you want me to press charges - "  
Curt bit his bottom lip and waited for his mother to finish making the doctor sorry for treating him in the first place. He tried shooting her an apologising look when she scrambled out of the door, but his mom probably blocked the view.  
"Thanks for coming, mom," he said in a surprisingly small voice. He didn't know he could sound that helpless, though he definitely felt that way.  
"Oh, Zisalle, what have you gotten yourself into?"  
Curt just groand. He was on a lot of pain killers but still very much in pain and even if he could create a coherent sentence, he couldn't bring that up. Not yet.  
"Ma, just… home?"  
"Oh sure thing Curtis, I'll go tell Barb we are ready to go." She placed a kiss on Curt's forehead. "Rest up, I'll be back in just a second with your release form."  
This ended up taking over two days, but Curt was blissfully asleep most of the time. He had to be transferred to the car on a wheelchair to help with not moving, and his mother filled the entire back seat with pillows to make the drive less bumpy. Curt greeted Barb weakly and pretended to fall asleep for the next few hours, his mom and Barb chattering in the background. He wasn't ready to talk just yet, and Barb's squeaky voice was high pitched enough without an exciting topic that would excuse the use of exclamation marks.  
The painkillers started seeping away, and in their place Curt felt a large, exhausting void. He didn't want to open his eyes. Each eyelid felt heavier than a whole car.  
But he had to speak eventually.  
Barb was driving when he decided to open his eyes, his mother safely dozing off next to her.  
"Curt!" She squealed when she saw his face in the back mirror.  
"Shhh… My mother needs to rest," he said, his voice hardly more than a whisper.  
"You are right," she said in a surprisingly low voice. "So, how did it go?"  
"Not great," he said, as if it wasn't visible.  
"No, I mean, what did he say? And - sorry if it's touchy - is he alive? Will you be friends again?"  
God, he needed painkillers. Or sleep that wasn't haunted by Owen's face. Or at least, he needed to talk to Tatiana.  
"Barb, we were never friends," he said with a heavy sigh.  
"But - you were so close! Remember when you asked me to make you matching rings that vibrated when the other needed rescuing? Only best friends have that."  
"He was my partner, that's all." Every word hurt Curt more than the previous one. Partner. He wished he could call Owen something else. Anything.  
"But - I don't understand - you must've liked him? The rings!" Barb's eyes were still concentrated on the road, but Curt could see a glint of joy in them. He didn't know why it made him so angry.  
"I never got the chance to give him that," he said, his heart beating faster, the corner of his mouth rising with conviction. "You know, those engagement rings you made."  
Barb steered the car right in a sharp movement. If it wasn't the middle of the night, Curt's worst year would have been cut short.  
"ENGAGEMENT?" Her voice sounded like that of a wounded dog, except maybe twenty times louder. Curt knew she had a crush on him, but at this point he was too tired, too hurt to mind Barb's feelings.  
Curt's mom stirred awake. "Oh, you told her about that Tati girl? She's lovely, isn't she, Barbie?"  
"What? No! Esther, he never told you?"  
Curt used all of his strength to kick the back of her seat with his right leg, and moaned in pain from the movement.  
"Mom, I'm not getting engaged, just go back to sleep," he said through gritted teeth.  
"Pish Posh, I heard engagement, I can't just sleep! Who was it about, then?"  
"I was just asking Barb about her boyfriend, eeerm," Curt's mind grinded to a halt. For a spy, he always knew he was a lousy improvisor. Owen was the witty one out of the two of them - Curt was just pretty and charismatic enough to make people forget to ask questions. That was what Owen said, anyway.  
"Ernie!" Barb said at the last moment. "Curt thinks Ernie is going to propose!"  
"Well, you were a single lady long enough, tell that Ernie he should get his ass moving! Maybe you and Ernie could have a wedding the same day as Curt and Tati? Oh, you girls will look just lovely in those dresses…"   
As his mom went on into her own world of layered cakes and tuxedos, Curt sent a thankful look to Barb through the mirror. He could see her eyes were a bit damp, but Barb was a strong girl - she could get over it. And besides, after all of her help, she deserved to know.  
They arrived at the safe house at six in the morning. Curt gave up on his dignity and let his mother carry him to bed, with the promise of showering him later.  
Only in his own bed, Curt's full situation dawned on him.  
Owen was alive and wanted nothing to do with him. Well, he did want one thing. To destroy everything that mattered. Curt was sure he wouldn't stop at the secrets: Owen was next to come for every person Curt has ever cared about, until he is truly alone, just like Owen was.  
Owen didn't have a mother to crawl back to when Curt left him for dead that night. The rational part of Curt was thankful for his own mother, but he couldn't help but picturing Owen, hurt and alone, and then picturing his mother sprawled on the cold concrete floor, dead, leaving Curt alone. He thought that this image could at least make him cry, but he truly felt nothing. He sent his arm under the bed and fumbled around until he found an old, nearly forgotten bottle of whiskey that was half empty. Without a thought, Curt took a few long swigs, the warmth filling up his empty body. He curled into his blanket and didn't leave for many days.

"You really don't get it, do you Curt? I'm going to singlehandedly destroy everything you ever believed in!"  
A long silence.  
"We used to share those beliefs."  
Owen took a long breath before responding. It was as if he was on the other end of a bad phone line. Curt took this chance to say what he practiced for those three long days of the chase.  
"You are alive," he said. "That's all I care about, and that's what you don't get. I was so lonely - man, I was in such a bad place - but you being here in front of me… and I don't care what you do. I don't care if you will always hate me and torture me, Owen, because the world is just so much better now that you are here."  
Owen's face crumbled with an expression Curt never saw before.  
"Enjoy this, then," he said. Curt felt a strong arm pushing him, and then he was falling. He could hear Owen from far away, as if from a different plane of existence.  
"Three minutes, love."

Curt woke up with a start to the sensation of water splashed on his face. The first things he saw were a head full of red hair and an empty bucket. He smudged his face dry.  
"What the fuck?"  
"I was expecting a thank you, perhaps," she said, her voice almost free of tone, yet he could feel a biting smirk at the edge of her sentence. "You smell like… how you say… a pig with stomach problems."  
"You're just mean," Curt said, rolling to the other side of the bed and yelping with pain at the reluctance of his ribs to allow it.  
"You are sad. This is understandable. But you were making your mother worry, and that is unacceptable."  
"Tatiana, Owen hates my guts and he almost made me spill them," he said, slowly rolling back to face her. "I imagine that I deserve some time to myself."  
"Deserve, maybe, but it is the last thing you need," she replied in a sharp manner. "Come on. Wash yourself. You have to meet my family."  
"No, I'm tired and drunk, they will hate me," he said.  
"They will not. But you must shave first. And… we have vodka."  
Curt groaned and sat up for the first time in three days. "Do I really smell that bad?"  
"There are not enough words to describe how much," she said. "Take a bath. Don't drown. It is an order."  
"Fine, but only for the vodka," he said.  
"Oh, and you should hurry, our mothers are becoming friendlier by the minute."  
"Oh. Wedding invitations?"  
"We are way passed that."  
"Shit. I'm coming."  
"My dad wants to congratulate you, don't keep him waiting!"  
"I am not talking to my father in law, thank you very much," he said. Tatiana smiled warmly.  
"Curt, I'm your friend, do you remember?"  
Curt nodded.  
"So you must trust me. We will get you through this. Together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: is Curt really that smelly?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curt stays at home and people visit.

“This is my father, Artyum,” Tatiana said. Her father sat next to Curt’s mom, chatting in broken English and worst of all, the several Yiddish words Curt’s mom knew and figured would apply to any language that wasn’t English. Curt cringed at the sight.  
“And that is my mother, Galina,” Tatiana pointed at a tall, red headed woman that looked just as fierce as she did despite holding a toddler in each arm. Curt could see Tatiana practically beamed at her mother, who sent a calming smile towards Tati and Curt.  
“Over there is my sister Yana,” she pointed to a brown-haired woman who was maybe twenty years old and was furiously writing in a notebook. “She learned English back home, but your American is different,” Tatiana explained with a loving smile. “So she tries to understand. She is so smart.”  
“Were you close?” Curt dared to ask.  
“Never truly. She is two years younger. By the time we could remember each other, I was already in training,” Tatiana said. Curt could hear the bitterness in her voice. She was robbed of her sister. Curt was an only child, but he could imagine.  
“And these are the new brothers, Viktor and Lev,” she said with much less enthusiasm.  
“What do you mean, new?” Curt prompted, even though he understood it himself, ‘bird brained’ as he was.  
“They are young, only four,” she said. “I never met them before. Didn’t know who are they.”  
Curt could see she was disappointed. This was not the family reunion Tatiana has dreamt about all these years.  
“Must have caused trouble with the passports,” Curt noted. He was going to talk to Tatiana about accepting change - not that he was one to talk - but not now. Not in front of the new brothers.  
Tatiana shrugged. “It worked out,” she said. “Go, talk to my father, he asked so much about you.”  
“You know what? You go talk to him. I’m… I’m still kind of nervous. I think I’ll hang out with the new kids for a bit, if that’s okay.”  
Tatiana rewarded him with a grateful smile. She joined her father on the couch and Curt approached the mother.  
“Uh… Galina?” was it Galina? Could be Yana. Could be an embarrassment.  
“Curt. I heard you helped bring us back to our daughter.” her voice was similar to Tatiana’s, but it had even less of a tone. Curt didn’t know it was possible.  
“I - “  
“Oh, I threw you off,” Galina said and laughed warmly. “I am not as tough as my beautiful daughter.”  
“I don’t think anyone is,” Curt said with a smile plastered to his mouth.  
“Your eyes are upset,” Galina commented. Astute just like her daughter, Curt noted to himself.  
“I was in an accident a few days ago,” he said, notioning his leg in the cast.  
“But that is not all. Are you here to ask to take Viktor and Lev off my hands so you don’t have to speak?”  
“How do you - “  
“I have seen more than one young man anxious to impress a lady’s family,” she said, her eyes glinting with a smile. She then spoke Russian to the boys and let them down. The two ran to the coffee table to get colorful markers.  
“I told them you all could go in the kitchen and draw on the cast,” she said. Curt sighed with a smile. “Be careful what you wish for,” he said. Galina rewarded him with a short laugh.  
By the time Tatiana’s family were ready to go back to their own apartment, Curt had drank six or seven shots of the famous vodka and had a leg full of colors. He saw them out of the door and was ready to settle back into bed when the phone rang.  
“Who is it?”  
“Curt, it’s me. Was is bad?” Tatiana’s voice rang out clearly. How did she even manage to get home so quickly?  
“What do you mean?"  
"Pretending to be a normal person for two hours," Tatiana replied.  
"Just tiring," he answered. "I'm a spy, I'm already familiar with the concept of pretending, you know."  
"Thank you for taking the new kids. You were not that stinky after all. But if you don't leave the house you will grow moldy."  
Curt sighed. "You will have to accept them, you know," he said.  
"You are not… how you say… you are not an expert on moving on."  
Her words felt like a punch to the face.   
"So I'm told. But it isn't their fault that they were born."  
Tatiana didn't speak for a few seconds.  
"I will see you soon and we will talk. Until then, your mother will inform me on every day you don't leave your bed and I will send Barb in."  
"Weird threat."  
"Yet you are scared."  
"Terrified."  
"Then behave. Goodbye, mister moving on," she said and hung up.

Curt held up his part of the agreement, but there was no stopping Barb from visiting on her own account.  
"Thanks for the other night," she told him on one of the visits.  
Curt suddenly felt a rock drop in his belly. Did he get that drunk yesterday?  
"Barb, whatever I did, you need to - "  
Barb playfully punched his arm. "Nothing like that, silly! No, remember when you told me about… you know, about that?"  
Curt stared at her with confusion.  
"About you and Owen!"  
"No need to yell, mom doesn't know," Curt said in a hushed voice.  
"Sorry. And you do remember how we told her about my boyfriend Ernie?"  
Curt nodded.  
"Well, I looked into it and there is an Ernie in the computing department! And since I was… you know, free from my crush… I asked him out!" She squeaked the last part so loudly Curt cringed away.  
"Barb, that's awesome! Did he say yes?"  
Barb kept quiet and smiled to herself for a moment, which was a rare occasion for her.  
"I came here so you can help me get dressed for the date!" She squeaked.  
"What - tonight?"  
She nodded with a smile so large Curt was worried it would hurt her mouth.  
"But why me? I don't know what's attractive! And… I never even went on a date with a girl!"  
"Curt, you are my best friend and I feel comfortable with you," Barb said, still with the smile.  
"Was Tatiana busy?"  
"You know it."  
"Show me your options, then."

The days stretched from visit to visit, Tatiana only coming with her family and apologising for not having the time to talk alone. It wasn't that bad, actually - Curt grew quite fond of the new brothers, and they started catching English words. Curt liked to think he taught them that. All of the visitors were expected, of course - only very few people knew where the safe house was. So when Curt lounged on the couch and heard a knock on the door, he almost dropped his popcorn. He put on a leather jacket to hide his filthy T-shirt and answered the door.  
"Oh, boy, you have never looked worse, and I saw the beard," said the short woman in the door.  
"Curtis, who is it?" His mother yelled from her bedroom.  
"It's my boss, mom!"  
"But I thought you quit!"  
"I got worried about him!" Cynthia yelled back.  
"Well come in, I'll be there in a minute!"  
Curt sighed and moved to let Cynthia in.  
"Curt, I mean this with every kind bone in my body, get your shit together," she said. "You literally smell worse than most homeless people."  
"You are not my boss anymore," he said with his head bowed. She was about half of his size, and yet he felt like he was looking up to her. "What do you want?"  
"I'm just here to mock the awful state of your beard so you shave it," she said.  
"What is it with everyone and my beard?" He asked in a frustrated voice.  
"And inform you that I'm wasting precious human resources on finding your dead-living partner," she said quietly.  
"I'm - you are?"  
"I just said I was, you absolute dingus," she said.  
"And? Did you…"  
"If I had found something, would I say I'm looking? No, I'd have him in a prison already."  
"I see. Do you want coffee?"

Tatiana ended up only coming by herself in June 15th, 1961, which marked two months of Curt's home stay.  
"I'm glad we finally have a chance to talk," she said. "I was very busy lately, sorry."  
"Tati, it's fine, but you don't look calm at all. What's wrong?"  
"I'm going to ask you a question. Promise me you will answer with honesty?"  
"I promise, but please explain - "  
"Curt Mega, will you marry me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will come either this Sunday or in like two weeks :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marriage???

"Curt? Hello? Are you alive?"  
"Please explain."  
Tatiana sighed. "I'm a spy," she said.  
"I'm aware of that." Curt didn't even close his mouth, and he expected Tatiana to tell him something about it, but she didn't - whatever this is, it's probably serious, he thought.  
"I'm also Russian."  
"Wouldn't have guessed."  
"This is the cold war, Curt. I received threats and I can't get a job at the A.S.S."  
"What do you mean, threats?"  
Tatiana crossed her legs and suddenly seemed smaller than ever before.  
"Just… people in suits following me. I can't let my family out of the apartment during daylight. And we can't even return to Russia."  
"I don't understand what does it have to do with marriage."  
"You are as American as an eagle, so having you by my side will prove that I am with the good guys."  
Tatiana breathed in for a moment. "I didn't know who else to turn to. It is pretty urgent that you make a decision." She laid her hand on his shoulder. "Please. It will be mutually beneficial."  
No one will ever doubt his heterosexuality again, Curt thought.  
"But you know I can't satisfy you - "  
"That will not be a problem. You are all I need."  
"No, I meant, like, in bed," he said, his cheeks feeling warmer.  
"That will not be a problem either."  
Curt's mouth dropped open once more. "You didn't tell me - Tatiana! I told you I liked… you know, you should have told me you liked ladies!"  
"I don't."  
"I don't understand."  
Tatiana shrugged. "Just never felt like drooling over a person, I guess."  
Curt held still for a second, considering.  
"Not even once?"  
"I will let you know if I do," she said with a mocking smile. "Oh, and when we marry, you can bring over boys, I don't mind."  
"I didn't even say yes!"  
They shared a laugh.  
"I will give you special permission to kiss me again on our wedding night…" she said in a faked tempting voice.  
"Fine, I'll do it. They always say you should marry your best friend."  
Tatiana rewarded him with a crushing hug.  
"I never had a best friend before," she whispered into his chest. When she sat back up he saw her eyes were damp.  
"You didn't have a husband either."  
Tatiana chuckled.  
"Well… I think they say… hubby?"  
"Yes, wifey?"  
They laughed.  
"How are you, really?"  
Curt was forced out of the thought of the hilarious wedding that was surely ahead of them and back to the gloomy reality.  
"Not amazing, you know."  
"You do smell better. And you get out of bed."  
"And yet Barb keeps coming."  
Tatiana gave him a stern look. "She's a friend. Don't be horrible."  
Curt's eyes dropped down to his hands who sat idly in his lap.  
"I have been horrible, haven't I?"  
"Just a little."  
"I feel horrible."  
"Stop," Tatiana said. She placed a hand on each of his shoulders and glared directly into his eyes, her mouth pressed into a thin line.  
"What do you wake up for?"  
Curt stared at confusion.  
"When you do leave bed and brush your teeth and eat, which I know isn't everyday," she said, gesturing to Curt's slowly diminishing form.  
He never had to think about it. The answer was always obvious.  
"Used to be saving the world," he said. "But… I guess I'm not the best man for the job anymore."  
"You really get up and try to save the world every day?"  
"Yeah, I'm a spy. Why, do you have something else to get up for?"  
"Yes, for my family."  
Curt uncomfortably shrugged her arms away from him. "That's better, I guess."  
"And?" She looked at him expectantly, her hands folded in her lap.  
"I don't know. I guess… maybe I got out of bed because I didn't want Owen to see me like that. Before. But… I know how he sees me now. So it's not working."  
Tatiana nodded.  
"Perhaps… a person is not reason enough."  
"You just said you do it for your family."  
"Yes, I did everything I do to see them again. For myself, not for them."  
"And what will you do, now that you have them?"  
"Once I can guarantee their safety, I'll face a different problem."  
"Just like me."  
"I suppose."  
"You don't have a solution, do you?"  
She smiled.  
"I was hoping to figure it out together."  
Curt caught her hand in his and shook it with a confident face.  
"We will find a way to start again."  
Tatiana nodded.  
"Tonight we start. There is… a… a queer bar. We will go, but I will leave alone."  
"Why?"  
"You will be busy with a… how you say… hookup."  
Curt's eyes widened, his eyebrows rising.  
"It's the wrong word?" Tatiana maintained a smug grin.  
"Just the wrong thing to do, maybe! I'm not going out, and I'm definitely not hooking up."  
"You must get back in the field. You are rotting."  
"Absolutely not. We're not going to a queer bar."

The queer bar was much less than Curt expected. It was a little larger than the living room in his house. There was a bouncer who asked them if they were friends of Dorothy, an expression Tatiana wasn't familiar with, two large speakers that played Elvis songs softly and a bar that Curt sat glued to, nursing his second whiskey. Tatiana danced near one of the speakers and Curt noticed she attracted several looks from the other girls in the bar. He also noticed there were five men in there other than him, only one of them sitting at the bar. The man noticed Curt's inquisitive look and tipped his wide hat at him. Then, without asking for permission, the stranger scooted over to sit next to Curt.  
Of course. An attractive stranger - a whiskey drinker, no less - has shown interest in Curt. Tatiana must have had a hand in this.  
"So, what's your name?" The stranger asked in a deep voice and a damned British accent. Shit. Curt was lost. That red-headed bitch.  
"Curt," he managed to extract from his mouth, his mind racing.  
"Lovely to meet you, Curt. My name's Harrison."  
"That's your first name?"  
The angles of Harrison's mouth curled up. "It happens," he said with a chuckle. "What are you doing in a gay bar on a lovely evening like this?"  
"Well, I'm gay," he said. Oh god, what a dumbass, he thought. "Uhh… my friend over there made me come. She thinks I don't go out enough." Oh thank god he managed not to finished the sentence with 'of the house', Curt thought.  
"Ah, you have one pretty beard, I see," Harrison said.  
Curt sent his hand to his regenerating stubble before he remembered Tatiana. "Oh! Right, yeah, she's a good friend too. We're getting married."  
Shit. Don't tell a hot dude you're getting married.  
"Smart. I appreciate that. Does she still let you talk to boys?"  
Curt chuckled. "She makes me."  
"Why does she have to?" Harrison sounded genuinely interested.  
Curt hesitated. He had to make this story palatable.  
"I had a really bad breakup recently," was the sentence he finally settled for.  
"Oh. So you're looking for a rebound."  
"Sort of. And you?"  
"I'm fresh off the boat, just trying to meet new people," Harrison said with an enthusiastic smile.  
"And…" Curt hesitantly suggested.  
"And sleep with them, yes," Harrison admitted.  
Curt smiled. "You are notoriously handsome, so I take it's been going well," he teased. Harrison laughed, setting his hat aside.  
"Oh, good, it was doing nothing for you," Curt kept on. He looked to the bartender. "Can you get two more of these for me and my friend here?"  
"I was just trying to fit in!" Harrison protested. He raised his refilled glass to meet Curt's. "Cheers, mate!"

Harrison was surprisingly flexible, which was convenient when he needed to sneak out through the window the next morning, and in another occasion. Curt really did have to call Tatiana to thank her. And perhaps buy her a ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next one will come in about 2 weeks, sorry!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we keep it PG

The ring was simple silver with a light purple stone in the middle - the seller made a point of explaining the name and origin of it but Curt paid him no attention. He bought it in a red, velvety box and called Tatiana to meet him at his place. He made sure his mother was home - she deserved to see this, Curt knew it would make her happy.  
He practically whistled to himself while shaving, the memory of Harrison's arms around him filling him with warmth. One night that he didn't cry himself to sleep or didn't get sleep at all.  
This thought sadly grounded him.  
Owen.  
He must be somewhere out there, Curt thought. And he must be found. And Curt can't just hookup with random men - he had to see Owen again. Talk to him. Apologize. Have him in his life again.

He greeted Tatiana with a distracted mind and took her to the kitchen, where water was boiling for tea.  
"You don't seem as grateful as I expected," she noted. "Even after a night of… how you say… canoodling.”  
“You are spending too much time with my mom,” he said with a smile. “There was nothing like it though. We just cuddled.”  
"You don't have to tell me the children's version," she said, playfully smacking his arm.  
"We really didn't do more! I wasn't ready and so was he, he flinched every time I tried to go further. I think we both just really needed to be held."  
"If you say so," Tatiana said, taking the whistling teapot off the stove. "So no thank you?"  
"I just have to find Owen," Curt mumbled. "I'll be better then."  
"Didn't help you last time, but I will support you if you need me."  
"I brought you a gift though, hold on," Curt said, snapping out of his fantasy. "Ma, where are the good cookies?"  
"You brought me a cookie?"  
"A witness," he corrected, listening to his mom's nearing steps. Once she was close enough, Curt bent down on one knee.  
"Tatiana, I know we haven't known each other for too long, but will you marry me?"  
Tatiana reacted to Esther Mega's scream of joy with a knowing smile and took the ring, placing it on her ring finger.  
"Oh, Curt, of course I will!"  
"I can't believe you tried to hide this from your own mother! Come here, lovebirds, give me a hug! I'll make something better than cookies!"  
Curt smiled when his mother's arms crushed him, and again when she insisted on taking a picture of the so called couple. He didn't think he had smiles left in him for that day - he was hardly present when they set the date for the next week, called Tati's parents and when his mom measured him for the suit and complimented him for his choice of ring.  
He should be marrying Owen.  
He was being a good friend. That has to be worth something in Owen's eyes when they meet. If they meet.  
Curt's attention resurfaced.  
"Oh, Tati, you don't have to be so decent, you're getting married! Of course you can share a bed."  
Curt shot a questioning look to his fiancée.  
"It's dark," she said with a shrug.  
Curt made sure his mother was out of ear shot before replying.  
"Are you falling for me or something?"  
Tatiana bursted into laughter. "Idiot. You just said that you needed a cuddle. As your loving wife and best friend, I have decided to provide."  
This squeezed a third smile out of Curt, a real one this time.

Curt walked Tatiana home after that night. She really did just cuddle him - they didn't even talk much, and he was grateful for that. He was against it at first, but having another person in his bed did provide him with relatively good sleep. Not as good as Harrison, though, he reminded himself. And kissing him - it made Curt feel like he hadn't felt in a long time.  
He was still gloomy, he thought with determination. Still not marrying Owen.  
Tatiana, on the other hand, was beaming. She explained it had nothing to do with how pleasant it was to be held by Curt, and all to do with having helped a friend and getting to see her family - Curt thought that missing them after less than twelve hours was a bit much, but who was he to judge.  
Tatiana's home was much like Curt's, and he knew it wasn't too different from Cynthia's either. It was in a government-issued neighborhood that started as houses for people in witness protection and went on sale when the area got too crowded. This was a handy opportunity for those in need of a safe house to keep their loved ones - a very nice neighborhood, houses that all had a panic room with a phone that called the police directly, some had tunnels running under them, allowing easy escape to the street. And all in a pretty low price if you knew the right people. Curt bought Tatiana's house for her and her family.  
Actually, he bought it for Owen. Right after he lost him - the first time - Curt thought he could use his savings to start a foster home in his memory. The plan was cut short by depression and alcohol, but the house remained.  
Nearly five years have passed since that noble dream, and Tatiana's house showed it. The grass was not cut during this time, and grew thick and long up to Curt's knees. The gate was partially blocked by a grapevine and a fallen branch from the oak tree nearby - Curt planted it with the thought of a swing and maybe a hammock. They sneaked through the rusty, grapevined gate and into the lawn that was probably swarming with all kinds of animals Curt didn't want to think about.  
"Do you need help with the garden, wife?" He asked in a cynical voice.  
"I want to maintain the… how do you call it… uninhabited look. For safety."  
Curt shrugged. "I know a gardener. You just have to ask."  
"As if I would ever ask for help if I didn't fear for my life," she said, smiling.  
"Yes, that really is how partnership works," Curt remarked.  
"It's quiet," Tatiana noted after a second.  
"They are probably asleep."  
Tatiana didn't seem to agree with this explanation. She opened the door with caution, reaching to her tiny "casual" pistol. Curt felt stupid. Why did he come unarmed? He can't help.  
But no danger came. Instead, there was silence. They entered the dark living room and Tatiana screamed.  
It was trashed. Pillow filling all over the floor, the couch broken against the wrong wall, the radio shattered to a million pieces on the coffee table. Tatiana started searching the house, running and holding her pistol at the trigger, ready to fire. Curt stood there for a moment, confused, and then turned to search the kitchen that didn't look any better. There was probably at least one dish left unbroken, he thought, but he couldn't find it.  
Tatiana came into the kitchen and crashed into Curt, who had to hold her up. He felt her tears trickling down his neck.  
"Someone - someone took them," she whimpered. "Someone took my family!"  
"Don't yell directly into my ear," he mumbled, immediately feeling ashamed. He wrapped his arms around her and tried again.  
"Well, lucky," he said.  
Tatiana pushed him back.  
"Lucky!? What the fuck, Mega?"  
"It's just, this is a case," he said, his cheeks growing red. He's not dealing with this too well, if he was to judge by Tatiana's reactions.  
"And we're spies. Good ones. I mean, you are good at this. We are going to find them in no time."  
"I thought you left the profession for good," she said, a hick escaping her lips as tears kept flowing out of her eyes.  
"Don't be stupid," he said. "Spies are forever."  
"Forever?" She sniffed.  
He hugged her again. "We're going to find them, okay? I promise. Let me call Cynthia really quick."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait and thanks everyone for the comments and kudus! You can expect another episode in about a week. I wish I could promise longer chapters, but for me it's long even like this, and if my English teacher saw me write that many words in a row she would be seriously confused.


End file.
